Anger and Fears
by Cautious Chaos
Summary: "Ymir freezes, reality drawing in on her. She lets go, abruptly, and Christa's hand falls back to her side. Ymir's brown eyes become horrified as quickly as they had become senseless." Ymir cannot stand watching Christa throw her life away to the Survey Corps. The night that they choose the course of their lives, she confesses her fears. Slight spoilers. Yumikuri.


It is right after they pledge their lives to the Survey Corps that it happens. Christa felt the first surge of anger sweep up when Ymir turns to her and says " _If you're going to cry, you should have left."_. Ymir has said many things that should have gotten Christa angry in the past, but something about this was different to her. Maybe it was the fear that was surging through her that made her latch on to this bit of fury, maybe it was because she was sick of being looked upon as weak. Maybe it was anger that was left from watching her comrades being killed in Trost. But Christa held fast to the anger for some reason she did not know, and she held onto it even as she walked back with Ymir to collect her things.

Ymir was unsure of what made her say it, not that saying cruel things was unusual to her. Ymir has always prided herself on thinking ahead about what she would say, of being able to trap her emotions so that she would not ruin her careful plans. This, though, it just slipped out, emotions getting the better hold of her. Maybe it was the fear that was coursing through her veins when she said it, the residue of watching Christa risk her life in Trost, dodging death too many times that Ymir would have liked. Maybe it was because the last thing she wanted was for Christa to join the Recon Core, to give up her future to go fight Titans and risk her life. She didn't know, and she didn't know why the tears and bile were creeping up now, as she walked back with Christa.

Christa lets the first words slip when she cannot contain herself any longer, in the dorm room where she is packing her things. She attempts to force the anger down once more, to understand, to be kinder like she always pretends she is, but it still slips out, into the nighttime air and snaking around the dusty floorboards of the room. She wants to flinch at how she doesn't sound like _Christa_ in that moment, she is Historia. And she knows that is something she cannot be. Oh, she knows, but she can't stop.

"Why would you say something like that?" She demands, and her voice is determined. Ymir looks astonished for a moment, before masking the cool expression back on.

"Say what, Christa? I say a lot of things, you know." Ymir has her head turned to the side because she does not want Christa's eyes prying into her own, which are as uneven as her voice. "You'll have to be more specific."

"You said I should have left. You're unhappy about me joining the Survey Corps. _You're_ unhappy about _you_ joining the Survey Corps." Christa's voice, for all its softness, is unyielding. "You don't want me here!" She sounds genuinely hurt in a way Ymir had never been able to make her sound before, and the brunette girl feels something like guilt trickle down her spine.

"Its true," says Ymir, not lying, yet feeling guiltier, trying to sound bored but unable to look at Christa's face. It is true, that she did not want Christa here, where life was as uncertain as a dying candle flame. "I don't want you here, Christa, and I don't want-"

 _"Then why are you still here?!"_ The blonde girl yells angrily so that the taller girl reels back in shock. "Is it because I'm weaker than you, Ymir? What is it because, then, because I don't know what-"

It takes moments for Ymir to gather her thoughts before she retorts in the same cool voice, but with her back still turned. "You're overreacting again, Christa. I was only saying that we should have joined the CMP instead. Well, _you_ should have, being number... ten, was it? I wouldn't have been able to." Ymir wants to laugh at how she makes it sound trivial. Of course, she remembered what Christa had ranked. Of course, she had because she had done everything in her power so Christa ranked among the best. And it was not as if she had forgotten. Ymir had her share of sleepless nights over that number ten, because she almost, _almost_ didn't make it, she had almost not gotten Christa far enough, she had almost lost her the chance. Now, Ymir is losing it anyway, but she has to try, has to convince the girl. She does not believe her words for even a moment, but if it will get Christa to go somewhere safer they are worth the lie. She would have let Christa go, should the girl have joined the CMP, and gone somewhere else herself. She would have given anything up- even that- to know that Christa would be safe.

"If you wanted to join the Garrison so bad, you should have gone with everyone else!" Snaps Christa instead, so uncharacteristically that Ymir has to blink. "But I'm staying here! I'm not a coward, Ymir! "

Something inside of Ymir snaps and she feels something cold wash over her like the sinuous ice of defeat. "I am not a coward either, Christa. " She said, and this time, she struggles, even more, to keep her voice steady, but, this time, Christa does all the talking for her. "Then _what? "_ Asks Christa in a voice so cold that Ymir doesn't know if she was still talking to the same girl. "You think I am?" Christa shoots back, "You think that I cannot handle this? You think that I would have been better off hiding somewhere while my friends give their beating hearts to humanity-"

"I think that you need to stay alive. I think that you are the one person that should not have to give their life for humanity! _"_ Says Ymir, and it is the first time her coldness waivers and she lets shaking notes slip past her lips. "Face it, Christa. Face the facts! This bullshit that these soldiers are going to change the world is a fantasy that they cling to before they die. They're already signing each other up for death, and calling it bravery. You're so stupid, going after them like some mindless sheep, no more thought than one of those goddamn titans-"

" _Stop it!"_ Christa screams, stamping her foot. "How heartless are you? Those are good people, who had seen their friends being slaughtered-"

"All the more reason not to join. Why are all of you idiots so eager to die? Why don't you all just take a blade and slit your own wrists, if you want it so badly-"

"How _dare_ you! Leave if you believe that! _Leave_! Why are you here, Ymir? _Why are you here?"_

 _"_ Why do you _think_?" Snaps Ymir, unable to say it any other way. "Where else would I _go_?" Her voice was alarmingly loud, nothing in it like the controlled cruelty of her facade. She is only half aware that she had spoken her true thoughts aloud. She leaves the other half unsaid. _Where else would I go, without you to come with me?_

"I don't _know_!" Spits the smaller girl, angry tears cascading down her cheekbones. "I don't understand why you're doing this! Why can't you just leave if you hate it so much?! You always act like you're fearless, Ymir, so I don't understand- what are you so _afraid of_?"

Never, not once, not for a moment, had Christa thought of Ymir as afraid. But she didn't know what else to call the emotion in the girl's eyes right then. She searches for the answer in Ymir's dark irises, and searches so hard she is completely unprepared for Ymir's response.

" _I am afraid of losing you! "_ Shouts Ymir, and to both their shock, tears come in bitter rivets down the long curve of Ymir's cheeks and down into the hollow of her throat. "What else do I have Christa? What else do I have?" She gives a wordless cry, low pitched and guttural, slamming her palm into the wall beside her extraordinarily hard, shoulder lurching with the painful impact. Christa doesn't flinch, abandoning her facade, eyes harsh but wide and flickering with something indescribable. "You're my... friend," mutters Ymir moments of silence later, pulling back her trembling fist. "You're my only friend, my only friend and I-" Ymir bows her head, and her dark eyes found the floor. "I don't know what I would do, Christa."

Christa merely stands silently. "Your friend." She says quietly, and it's not the first time there is something other than _Christa_ in her voice, and Ymir cannot recognize it. There is a hidden emotion, deep beneath the toneless murmur, the different person Ymir knew was there. "I see."

The acid and anger creep back into Ymir's voice, and she felt cold. "Oh, you do?" She says, throat drowning in horrible emotions. "Is that what I get? That you _see_? Take a closer look, Christa, because you _see nothing._ You are _blind._ And _you know nothing_ about me!"

There is a terrible silence billowing in the stale air, crashing into Ymir and bringing realization like lightning because _Oh, why would she_ say _that?_ She should have never said that. Christa should never know that _she_ did not know Ymir as Ymir truly was.

She would never know.

Ymir does not believe in a god, had never believed, but she prays that Christa would never know. "Fuck," she whispers to herself.

There is another long silence, writhing and begging to spill. Christa stares at her, unmoving, eyes trained on the other girl in the room.

"What, Christa?" Ymir whispers, staring blankly into Christa's blue eyes. Christa's lips tighten though she no longer looked flat and emotionless and frigid. "Alright. I don't know anything," she said softly, and her eyes were sharp. "But _you_ know as much about _me_ as I do about you, I can tell you that. And I can tell you that you're being selfish. You're being so selfish, Ymir."

The dark haired girl feels laughter bubble up inside of her. "Did you figure that out now?" She scrubs at her eyes and turns away. "I have always been selfish, Christa. But at least, I recognize it, and I don't hide behind a mask."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"That I can see _right through you_ ," says Ymir, and Christa goes white. Wordlessly, Christa stalks out of the small room, her small form full of anger and hurt. Ymir only watches her go, staring at the sheet of blonde hair that disappears behind the slamming door. Ymir wants nothing more than to let herself go and turn into the monster that she is.

But Ymir thinks for a while. Then she swears a final time before following in Christa's wake, her belongings still scattered across the bed.

"Christa," she calls because she is an idiot when it comes to Christa Lenz. "Wait." She quickens her pace, and finds the blonde girl by a large window, expression solemn. "Christa," she says again, reaching out. "That-"

"Its fine," the girls says warmly, turning. The light from the window catches in her hair, and her eyes seem a brighter shade of blue. Christa smiles cheerfully, and the tone of her voice Ymir feel cold and lost instead of relieved. She knows this is another one of Christa's many masks, and behind is a face of rage and pain. She opens her mouth, but nothing comes out. She can feel herself shaking, and she doesn't know why. "Don't apologize," interrupts Christa in the same fake voice, before Ymir can even speak. "It's alright. It's my-"

She is broken off by Ymir. "Christa," says the other girl, her voice strained. "Stop. Just stop." Ymir lunges, takes Christa's face in her hands, and _kisses_ her.

It is brief, it is intoxicating, and it is desperate. Ymir can feel fire raging along her body, her fingers heavy as they dig into Christa's soft blonde locks, the points in contact with the small girl's body are aflame with a whirlwind of emotions. Christa's sweet tasting mouth is slightly parted, her hands limp at her sides as she is taken by surprise. Ymir does not stop, and Christa becomes pinned against the wall, the light from the window now enveloping the both of them in millions of specks of dust. Ymir feels the sharp tang of a long and dark desire being satisfied, and it makes her all the more poisoned by Christa's touch.

Ymir has moved to Christa's neck, where a thousand and one kisses are planted, tears wet against flesh. "Christa," she whispers between kisses. "Christa, my Christa, don't leave, don't leave me, stay...". Her hands slide along Christa's arms, and then her lips move there, along the inside of her wrists. Christa gasps, her hands traveling along Ymir's stomach. "Ymir," she says breathlessly, but her voice is firm. "Ymir, _stop_ -" With a little shove, Christa pulls back, and the kiss is wrenched away.

Ymir freezes, reality drawing in on her. She lets go, abruptly, and Christa's hand falls back to her side. Ymir's brown eyes become horrified as quickly as they had become senseless. "Christa," she says, and there is no use in veiling the thin panic of her voice. "D-did you not like... Did I... hurt you?" She launches herself off of the smaller girl and shrinks into the opposite wall. "God," she says, even though she doesn't believe in one. "I didn't...I wanted to..." She closes her eyes, and she knows she ruined the one thing that was precious in the whole damn world.

"Don't apologize," Christa repeats, but her voice is changed. She sounds low and husky, spiked with unfamiliarity. "No, I... no. I don't... mind." Her blue eyes are deep enough to drown in, and for a moment, Ymir does, before Christa continues. "I liked it," she says. "You didn't- you wouldn't hurt me." She says it genuinely, as if there was nothing that would ever convince her otherwise. Ymir again feels as if the world is crashing down around her bringing down the walls and the towers and the borders and washing them away in a powerful tide. Ymir is naked in the ruins of her mask, before the eyes of her Christa, stripped away by imploring blue eyes and a soft voice.

Christa has other thoughts. "I liked it, Ymir, but you can't change my mind. I know... I know where I'm staying. And you..." She doesn't look away but forces the next line out of her throat. "You can stay or leave. I know what I want, and I won't change that. Not even for you, Ymir."

"No," says Ymir. "I know you won't. I think I always knew, that you are strong, and that you don't change." Her hair shades her eyes. "I suppose that masks can be painted differently, but the person who wears them is always the same." Ymir clenches her fist, her fingers tight with disappointment. "I just want to save whoever is behind the masks, because I am selfish enough to want to save what I love and leave the rest to ruin. And you will ruin, Christa, if you stay with the Survey Corps."

"Let me ruin," says Christa, and this time, she rakes her fingernails down Ymir's arms, colliding her mouth against the other girl's. Her tongue was rough and sudden, her body a fortress of hunger and passion. Her hands slipped into the fabric between Ymir's jacket and her shirt and pulled their bodies together, almost ecstatic, completely electric.

That's when Ymir realizes that there is nothing she can do, anymore. She realizes that Christa is not that fragile, honest girl that she pretends to be. And she realizes that Christa has her own reasons, as much as Ymir has hers, that are secret and buried somewhere under their carefully constructed walls. It's okay, she thinks. It's alright, because Christa is _here_ and _with her_ and Ymir is selfish enough to be satisfied with that.

Ymir knots her fingers between the frenzied strands of Christa's golden hair. "We can ruin together," she says, and pulls Christa into the dorm.

They never talk about why they suddenly both move on to the Scout Regiment, or why Christa's reasons are never explained. Because Ymir realized, very suddenly, that it didn't matter. Not when they were there together.

And when the two girls lay intertwined on the mattress, their own secrets meaningless, the anger and the fear float away like smoke, drifting off in the sky and vanishing from view.

* * *

Sorry that everything's OOC, I just had this waiting around and didn't know how to finish it.


End file.
